


Ross's Tower

by griimdarks



Series: Hat Pack-verse [1]
Category: Hat Films - Fandom, The Yogscast
Genre: Fluff, Gen, SO MUCH FLUFF, did i include enough ship tags? lmaooo, i mean i dont know if i'll add more to this but, i mean its not exactly ROMANTIC but like interpret it as you will, i might
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:05:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5235239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griimdarks/pseuds/griimdarks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in Hat Pack-verse<br/>Ross just finished building the Marble Tower, and the Hats jump at the chance for more personal space.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ross's Tower

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this while half asleep. I apologize for any mistakes :'D

When Ross's tower was finally complete they carved the upper levels up between them. Ross had dibs on the highest level - "Because fuck you guys! I built it!" - and Trott won the game of paper scissors rock they played and got the middle floor, with windows from floor to ceiling that faced the sunsets.

Smith had to make do with the bottom floor - which was pretty spectacular, in all honesty, albeit lacking a bit in the windows department. But Smith couldn't be content with last place, and jokingly ribbed both Trott and Ross about swapping floors until the latter snapped, profanities following Smith as he made a hasty retreat to his Thaumcraft area.

Space was something they thought they sorely needed; they were always in close proximity with each other, and had never really expanded out their living quarters. Ross half-assed bedrooms for them - but Ross's half-assing was akin to Smith's putting actual effort in - and while they were on separate floors Smith could still hear their breathing, or the occasional gentle snore drifting down. So when the monolith was complete they leapt for the chance of more space. They even went to bed early that night, Smith revelling in the fact that he could leave a trail of armour on the ground behind him without a complaint that he was taking up too much space. And they'd all built massive beds that were honestly just there for the sake of it, and Smith draped himself across it and sighed happily, with not a single word about him hogging the bed.

And then it became dark.

The area outside was still, the tower throwing a shadow that went as far as the eye could see. The gentle glow of the lights inside leaked out and gave everything a golden hue. The light kept the monsters away for the most part, but Smith was too high up to be affected by the general feeling of unease you got when a zombie wandered too close. He watched the skies fade to black, and stars drift lazily from over the horizon; the moon had a chunk missing and disappeared above the tower before he finally decided to sleep.

Everything was still. All he could hear was his own breathing, and then pin-drop silence.

Smith turned, trying to get comfortable.

The sound of rustling sheets echoed around the room.

Then he tossed a bit. And turned over again.

It was uncomfortably quiet.

Smith had no idea just how _big_ this room was; moonlight streamed in through the windows but shadows seemed to be creeping out from the corners, behind the door, from under the armour tossed on the floor. And the silence was growing, stifling; he threw off the blankets, feeling like he was suffocating.

Eventually he gave up trying to sleep. Smith kept a spare nitor on hand; it blazed light from his palm as he walked out to the elevator and went up a floor, before slowly opening Trott's door and peeking inside.

Trott jumped about a foot in the air when he heard the door; he'd abandoned his bed and was sitting next to the window, pen and paper in hand.

The "Couldn't sleep?" they exchanged was silent and Smith sat next to him while Trott gnawed on the end of his pen.

It was a habit that Trott had, especially when tired. The papers were blueprints for new machines and Trott was scribbling away at layouts and piping designs. Smith leaned his head against the window and Trott kept writing, scribbling out bits and scrawling himself notes.

They both heard Ross before they saw him, he pushed the door open completely and they both turned to face him. He couldn't sleep, either, and silently took a seat beside Trott.

The silence stopped being as suffocating; the shadows stopped growing under the moonlight. Trott was too short - technically, they were too tall - but it didn't stop Ross from resting his head on Trott's shoulder, and Smith following suit.

After a moment, Trott let out a small chuckle. “That cannot be comfortable,”

“You’re right, it’s not,” Ross said.

“Too bony,” Smith added. “You gotta get some meat on your bones.”

Trott rolled his eyes. “If this is so uncomfortable, go sleep on the bed.”

“Moving is too much effort,” Smith shifted into a slightly more comfortable position, sliding an arm around Trott’s arm, head still on Trott’s shoulder.

Ross, on the other hand, moved away. He stretched, yawning, and laid his head on Trott’s lap with a heavy sigh. It reminded Smith of the way a large dog would lay down.

“Ross,” Trott meant to sound admonishing, but there was no bite to his words. “I can’t work like this!”

Ross shrugged, shutting his eyes. Trott put down the papers and put a gentle hand in Ross’s hair.

They stayed like that until Smith’s neck started to complain at the awkward angle, and the three of them moved to the oversized bed.

“What was that about space?” Trott grumbled, laying down. “I’m not going to be able to sleep with both of you sticking your elbows into me.”

“You mean, Smith’s elbows,” Ross said, on Trott’s left.

“Well, Ross kicks in his sleep,” Smith said, laying himself down on Trott’s right.

“At least I don’t snore,” Ross shot back.

Smith pretended to sound offended. “I do not! At least I don’t hog the blankets!”

“I don’t hog the blankets!” Ross said. “Tell him, Trott.”

Trott’s eyes were shut, his breathing steady, head tucked near Ross’s shoulder.

Ross and Smith shared a look.

“I guess that’s our cue,” Smith turned onto his side and draped an arm over Trott.

Ross gave him a sleepy smile. “If you snore, I will throw you out.”

Smith stuck out his tongue before closing his eyes. Ross waited till he was asleep before doing the same.

 


End file.
